I saw R sitting at a table near the coffee bar in the grocery store. He was reading a book and absentmindedly tracing his finger along the rim of his coffee cup. I wanted to go over and say hello, but I didn't know if I should. Maybe he didn't want to talk and that would feel awkward. Or maybe his wife was shopping right now and she'd show up at any moment.
I had passed up at least five times to talk to him alone over the past few years when I saw him around town. We hadn't spoken alone, without spouses or kids around, since that night about four years ago.
We were on a camping trip not far from home. R was there with his two sons and I was there with my oldest. That night was the third and final night of the trip and my husband had gone home earlier in the day because he wasn't feeling well. His wife didn't go on the trip with us because she hated camping. The boys had were asleep in one tent, passed out after an evening of s'mores and scary campfire stories. That left the other tent for the adults.
As the night wore on, he got drunk - not falling over blackout drunk, but just beer drunk enough to smooth the edges off his inhibitions. It was a little uncomfortable, but it wasn't a big deal. I shouldn't have been surprised when he unzipped my sleeping bag and slid his hand under my shirt as he pressed his hard cock against me. Actually, I wasn't surprised at all, but I was in one of those strange states of mind where I wanted it to happen, but I also didn't want it to happen. There was too much that could go wrong. If one of the kids woke up and heard us or came into the tent looking for one of us....I didn't even want to think how bad that would be. Until the kids were asleep and I realized how drunk he was, I had no reason to expect that anything would happen.
But it did happen. We fucked all night, alternating between sex and slumber. I woke first in the morning and hurried out of the tent to go wash up at the creek before anyone else woke up. Washing cum out of my pussy and off my thighs in ice cold creek water was enough to shock any romanticism out of the whole experience. I hoped he'd be able to let this go and consider it a big mistake.
The boys awoke next and I started making coffee for R and me and some breakfast for us all. R stumbled out of the tent to the smell of coffee and bacon, looking very hung over. He grunted good morning at everyone before tripping down to the creek.
When he came back from the creek, he seemed wide awake and alert and he gave no indication that anything had happened. I was relieved. Later that morning we broke camp and headed home.
R and I never spoke about that night or even acted like anything had happened. I often wondered if he was embarrassed about it or if he regretted it. I can't say I regretted it at all. Even drunk, he was a decent lover, and the sensuousness of that night was hard not to think about and crave - Total darkness, total silence (except for the sounds of crickets and wind in the trees). It was all about touch and taste and smell, and the rippled shudders of pleasure.
And now he was sitting in front of me in the grocery store coffee corner. I took a deep breath and approached him slowly.
"Hi, Stranger," I said, trying to sound casual.
He looked up from his book and smiled. "Hey you."
His smile looked genuine. He motioned toward the chair next to him and invited me to sit. As we started chatting, I established immediately that he was there alone. His wife was nowhere nearby. Then we talked about our kids and my husband, my business and his job.
I was just starting to feel comfortable when he asked, "Been camping lately?" with a broad, knowing grin on his face.
My heart stopped for a moment and I didn't reply for what felt like a long time. I thought that I was probably misreading his expression, so I should reply as if he meant nothing by it.
I finally spoke. "Not this year. The creek is way too crowded with RVs and people who don't know that traveling with a $200,000 villa on wheels with satellite TV is not really camping."
He laughed. "I know what you mean. I like it when it's less crowded, too. It was pretty nice - and private - the last time we were there, wasn't it?"
"Yes, it was," I replied. "Maybe too private." I thought I'd give him the chance to express that it was a mistake or whatever, but he didn't take the bait.
"I thought it was perfect," he said. "The best time I've ever had in a tent."
I looked away and I'm sure I was blushing, too. "If you enjoyed it so much, how come you never said anything about it all these years?"
"Because you kept acting like nothing had happened," he said. "I thought you wanted to forget it. I figured I was too drunk and sloppy, and that was a little embarrassing, by the way. Why didn't you say anything?"
He was leaning forward in his chair now, looking at me with a shocked and expectant expression.
I chuckled and shook my head. "Well, this is interesting. I thought you just wanted to forget it."
"Forget it?!" he exclaimed. "I haven't stopped thinking about it for four years!" He leaned back, sighed heavily, and ran a hand through his hair. "I can't believe it," he continued. "Do you mean that you were ok with it and we maybe could have, you know, tried it again?"
I just smiled and nodded.
"Holy shit," he mumbled. His eyes drifted to the other side of the store, but he wasn't really looking at anything; he was thinking. Then he seemed to suddenly jump back to our conversation and he said, "What are you doing this afternoon? Do you have a few hours? I'm off today and I won't be missed for another five hours.What about you?"
I didn't know what to say. I was just hoping for a tension-free conversation with the dad of one of my son's friends. I wasn't expecting a proposition.
"Uh, yeah. I guess I can disappear for a few hours without raising any eyebrows."
"Great," he said, smiling and nodding and looking so damned sexy that I could barely stand it. "How about if we meet at that hotel on North Street, the one beyond the freeway way out on the edge of town?"
"That's a good choice," I said.
"Yeah, the parking lot is completely out of public view. It feels pretty secure."
"Yes, it does," I replied, realizing that we had just established that both he and I had done our share of fooling around locally since we were last "together."
He stood up, tossed the coffee cup in the trash, and grabbed his book, "I'll see you there in 30 minutes," he said. Then he patted me on the shoulder and walked out of the store. No, he was half walking, half jogging out to the parking lot, with a bounce in his step that made him look like an excited little boy.
I waited around for a couple of minutes, pretending to read the newspaper that was laying on the table. On the off chance that someone we knew was watching, I didn't want it to look like we were leaving together. Then I stood up and slowly walked out to my car and headed toward North Street.
To be continued......